Our music editor says goodbye

Back in spring of 2013, Peter Holslin, then-music editor of San Diego CityBeat, met me for coffee after work in North Park, with an interesting proposition: He was leaving the paper, but asked if I wanted to take the reins. It didn’t require a whole lot of thought on my part to say yes; I had already been writing about music during most of my waking hours, but now I didn’t have to do anything else.

I had been freelancing for CityBeat off-and-on since 2002, when the newspaper first started. In fact, if you take a look at the very first issue, you’ll see my byline on an album review (if I remember correctly, it was for the Death Cab for Cutie side project All Time Quarterback). I was still in college, not old enough to drink, and living in a shitty apartment in La Mesa. But I knew one thing: I wanted to write about music. It only took a decade for that to end up being a full-time gig for me. And after five years of growing my own skills as a writer, immersing myself in the San Diego music scene, discovering hundreds of new artists, attending hundreds of shows and losing a lot more sleep than I had planned, I’ve decided to offer up this seat again to a new successor. I’m leaving CityBeat to take over the position of web editor for San Diego Magazine.

I’ll admit that it feels a little strange to leave a job writing about music when that’s pretty much all I’ve ever wanted to do. I should clarify that I haven’t given that up. I will continue to freelance for a number of music websites and magazines. I also run a website of my own, Treble (treblezine.com), that’s entirely focused on music. I’ve been with CityBeat for five years, however, and that puts me in the running for the longest-running music editor here. I’m 36, and my love of music hasn’t waned in the slightest, nor has the genuine thrill of finding new music. But there are some interesting things that happen when you spend half a decade getting to know everyone in a local music scene: They become more than the subjects of your stories. They become your friends. Sometimes even like family.

Earlier this year, a good friend of mine who happens to be a musician opened up a conversation about the possibility of having me write about some music he was working on. It suddenly hit me that I might have reached an interesting critical mass, where working a beat becomes, more often than not, writing about people I might be too close to in order to be objective. I don’t think I ever crossed that line, but I certainly didn’t ever want to. And the network of people in San Diego’s music scene is small enough and intimate enough that such a possibility wasn’t far off. And perhaps this might be the time to give someone else the opportunity to experience the same thrill of discovery I enjoyed.

There are some people who weren’t necessarily happy with the job I did. Red Hot Chili Peppers fans. White reggae bros. Organizers of a certain music festivals I won’t name. But I can say this for my time at CityBeat: Everything I wrote was honest, and every artist I gave a platform were artists I genuinely liked. The best compliment I ever got from a reader was, “You made me want to listen to that band.” The best compliment I ever got from an artist was, “You get what we’re doing.” It’s comments like that, and not the advance promos or the guest lists for live shows, that made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile. Well, actually, the guest list thing is pretty sweet.

I’m genuinely excited to start a new chapter, though I’m sad I’ll no longer be seeing the people I’ve worked with so closely over the past few years: Editor Seth Combs, Art Director Carolyn Ramos and Web Editor Ryan Bradford, as well as our recently departed Associate Editor Torrey Bailey. I’m honored to have been a part of this team and to call them my friends. I’m also thankful to Peter Holslin for such a rewarding offer, and to former editor David Rolland for giving me a chance. Working for CityBeat wasn’t just fun, it made me a better writer and editor.

I’m ready for something new, but I’m not leaving the music scene. I’m still listening. I’m still playing (my band is called Blood Ponies for anyone who hasn’t caught us yet). And I’m still looking forward to seeing everyone I’ve gotten to know over the past five years, but not necessarily because I’ll be writing about them. It feels good to now simply be part of the family.